Alone and Afraid
by Faye177
Summary: Open SYOT. 24 tributes. 12 Districts. 4 Arena Themes. 1 Victor. Torture, Terror, Love, Defeat, Victory, Death, Sadness. Welcome to the 112th Hunger Games! Rated T because it's the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

I tap my fingers against the wooden desk. I throw back my shoulders and sigh, ready to get this over with. The meetings with the Gamemakers are never fun, and the only pleasure I take in them is making the men and women alike tremble with fear.

Propelled by this sudden thought, I flick my fingers, and the scarlet-clad avoxes bow their heads and proceed to open the double doors.

Two men walk in. One is short, skinny, and bald, while the other is enormous stretching twice as high and wide as the average man, with a thick, full head of black hair. Neither of them are to my taste. I much prefer the simple, rugged handsomeness of the Head Peacekeeper.

"President Teriba, it is I, Florian, your ever humble servant and Head Gamemaker!" The fat man gives a sweeping bow, his booming voice echoing through the room. The short man gives a cough, and looks pointedly towards Florian.

"And this," says Florian, in a bored tone. "Is Sabinus."

Sabinus smiles and fixes his rather watery eyes on my gorgeous (cosmetically created) violet eyes. "So glad to meet you Teriba-"

"President. President Teriba," I interrupt him. "We, my good friend, are not on a first name basis. Did you know that disrespect is punishable by becoming forever silent? Would you care to say, join this young lady over here?"

I glide to the corner of the room and grip the avoxe's thin arm. She makes no reaction, but I can feel her trembling with fear. I drag her over to my desk and sit down. She dutifully stands by my chair, chin nearly touching her collarbone.

"Oh no my dear," I pat her chin and force it up with two perfectly manicured fingernails. "You must let this disrespectful man see what I inflicted upon that tongue of yours!"

Sabinus is sweating, a look of pinched fear stuck to his pointed face. Florian has stepped back a bit, his jolly grin frozen to his face. I can sense that neither of these men are fond of each other, but neither of them want to lose their partner. No partner means more work, and there isn't often a scapegoat for the things you do wrong when you work alone.

The young girl looks straight into my eyes and opens her mouth wide. I can see a bloody, mangled mess of skin back there. Her openness was defiance, and I cannot have defiance in my Capitol.

With a snap of my fingers, two peacekeepers march in. They look from Sabinus to Florian to me to the avox, bewildered.

"My friends," I smile. "Today we are learning about defiance. This young lady," I gesture to the avox. "Has tried to defy me with the proximity of her gaze and openness of her mouth."

The avox's eyes widen.

"This young man," I gesture to Sabinus. "Has dared call me by my name." I level my gaze at the peacekeepers. "Do you think this is acceptable?"

They say, in unison, "No ma'am. It is not."

"Good answer," I smile. "Take this avox back to where she came from. The Underground."

The avox screams and the peacekeepers grab her. She collapses in their arms, sobbing.

"And Sabinus, you shall remain here, as a reminder of my generosity." Sabinus sags with relief.

The peacekeepers leave the room, and I am left with one avox, Sabinus, and Florian. I gesture at the two chairs in front of me, and the Gamemakers sit down.

"Now," I lean forward. "I am a young woman, and naturally, I am curious. Show me what's in store for the tributes of the 112th Hunger Games."

Florian regains his composure and fumbles with the transportable hologram. He lays it on the table and presses a button. Then, in his deep, resounding voice, he says, "Meecal Florian, Head Gamemaker."

The hologram clicks, and all of a sudden, an arena appears.

"A-a-as y-y-y-ou can s-s-see," Sabinus stutters. "The a-a-arena w-w-will be quite interesting this year."

He too regains his footing, and he begins to speak in a more confident tone. "There are four sections. The first will be made of rock. It will be hilly, but not mountainous. There will be many caves formed of rock. Fog will be abundant, and it will obscure a lot of the land from view. Also in that area will be the arena's only water source. There are streams, lakes, and ponds that appear to be fire, but if you touch them, they are ice cold and have the consistency of water."

Florian presses another button, and I see another section of the arena. "For the second section," Florian booms. "There will be a regular forest. Many of the tributes will be drawn here, since it appears most safe and typical. However, once three tributes set foot on that section of the arena, it will dissolve, and they will fall into a different rooms, where they will be forced to face their worst fears. The only way to get out is to face all of them, with no breaks in between. If they succeed, there will be a ladder which they can climb up, and will then be in-"

"The third section of the arena," says Sabinus. "Will be an abandoned prison. It will be dirty, stink of the flesh of the dead, and have over one hundred cells. There is a food source here, but no water. The room where deaths were carried out is in there, and if a smart tribute can figure out how to fix it, there may be some action. Tributes are predicted to go insane in there."

"And the fourth and final section," Florian presses another button and begins to speak. "Will house most of the mutts, and be a giant field of wheat. Many think that food can come from here, but only from one plant, or the others will trigger a swarm of lethal spiders, flesh-eating grasshoppers, snakes that will suffocate you, and mice that bite on a particular piece of your skin which releases a fatal amount of blood. The tributes will face many animals here."

They both turn to me.

"Hmm," I lay my head in my hands and sigh. "You didn't disappoint me. A bit unorthodox. Different. Exciting. Clever. I predict a fine year."

They beam, pleased with themselves, and I shoo them off.

"Now leave me. I have much more important work to do than mess around with you idiots." I stand and rest my hand on my chair. The two men bow their way out, and I am left alone. I allow the smile to creep over my face, and eventually, a cackle of mad laughter fills the room.

This will be a wonderful year.


	2. Interlude: The Avox

Thanks to those of you who submitted. I still need a bunch more tributes, so tell your friends, anyone who might be willing to submit.

I've decided to also put the tribute list on the story, for those of you for whom it may be easier to access.

District 1 Male: Jasper Hematite

District 1 Female: Treasure Lace

District 2 Male:

District 2 Female:

District 3 Male:

District 3 Female:

District 4 Male:

District 4 Female:

District 5 Male: Calic Galvin

District 5 Female:

District 6 Male:

District 6 Female:

District 7 Male:

District 7 Female: _reserved_

District 8 Male:

District 8 Female:

District 9 Male:

District 9 Female:

District 10 Male: Icarus Valiant

District 10 Female:

District 11 Male:

District 11 Female: Asami Himura

District 12 Male:

District 12 Female: Jasmine Peterson

Just sixteen more!

I've also decided to write a little bit more on the characters you've seen thus far. Except this time, I'll be writing from the avoxes point of view. Just a bit of nothing for your entertainment. Enjoy!

oOo

Again, I find myself under the houses, cars, people. Back down in the sewers, where I do nothing but clean the pipes and shovel sewage. The air reeks of the stench of waste and decay. Avoxes have died in here, from overwork, beatings, and poisonous gases.

The peacekeepers dragged me out of President Terbia's office what seems like a year ago, but has only been a few short days. I screamed my guttural scream, the one Capitolites mock mercilessly.

I couldn't process what was happening. After I became an avox, my family saved enough money to buy me to the surface. When I at last emerged, the sun blinded me, and the fresh air was too good to be true.

I wanted to forget the things I saw and heard down there, the laughter of the peacekeepers as they beat someone, pushed someone into the sewage, or even killed someone.

Sometimes one would tease me, getting close to my ear and whispering, "I'm gonna go up into the sunlight, where the air is fresh, where I can eat whatever I want, darling." When I was stupid enough to turn around, he'd give me a sharp slap on the bottom.

The pipes became cold in the winter, so cold that our lips would become blue, and we would huddle together for warmth, wearing nothing but the skimpy clothes on our backs.

The extravagant uniforms of the avox are for only the lucky ones who work at the surface. Down in the pipes, they issued the girls a brown, cotton shift dress and black boots, and gave the boys a cotton shirt, brown pants, and black boots.

That was it. That was what we had to live with. We did. The boys rolled up their pants in the summer, when it became unbearably hot, the metal pipes reflecting heat. Once, three long years ago, I looked at the thermometer on the wall, and the read liquid had zoomed all the way up to 120 degrees fahrenheit.

And so, as soon as the peacekeeper throws me through the hole in the ground and locks the metal cage above my head, I panic. Avoxes are everywhere, working slowly but surely. No one stops to pay the new girl any attention. No one cares.

A peacekeeper laughs when he spots me. "New slave, see her Emilius? She looks soft, too much above ground work, huh Emilius?" He walks over and roughly grabs me. I remember him. I just hope he doesn't remember me.

I scream loudly. I'm pale, clammy, shaking. Sweat is beading at my brow. Someone save me. Anyone.

I'm not that bad of a person. The only wrong thing I did was try to escape. Escape poverty, hunger, and the Hunger Games. But District Nine was better about security than I thought. I was caught, brought to say my last goodbyes, and taken away. To here.

And here I am again.

The peacekeeper Emilius struts over. He looks ridiculous, like some peacock. I just wish I could tell him so.

"Not much for looks is she?" Emilius stares me up and down. I avert his steely gaze. "She looks a bit weak as well."

_I'll show you weak Emilius. _

"I like her, huh Emilius? Isn't that right? Huh Emilius?" The other peacekeepers breath reeks of alcohol, and I can only assume he's drunk. "I think she looks familiar? Huh Emilius?"

I freeze. Please don't remember me. Please don't.

They do.

"I think so," Emilius resumes his scavenging of my body. "She looks like-" He snaps his fingers.

He remembers.

"She's that avox who used to work down here! The one you used to whisper things to!" Emilius looks pleased with himself. "Too bad you don't have a name anymore, girl. You're basically an animal, and you know it. Pity. Darwin had the biggest crush on you. He would talk to me constantly about you.

" 'Ya see that girl?' he'd say. 'She and I would be perfect together, no?' I couldn't say I agreed. Me and Darwin are keepers of law, respectful members of Panem. And you are just a filthy animal. Slow and stupid."

_I'll give you slow and stupid, idiot. _

"Too bad. You really are a pretty thing," Darwin speaks up. "Just too bad you don't have a name anymore."

I do. I do have a name.

It's Delia.

With a scream, I launch myself at the peacekeepers, and suddenly, I'm not the only one. Hundreds of avoxes drop what they're doing and beat the men stationed around the rooms.

It doesn't last long, but God. Does it feel good.

oOo

**Just for fun, hope you enjoyed. Make me happy with lots of reviews and tell everyone you know to submit. I need some help. Thanks a lot! You guys are awesome.**

**Goodbye until next time lovelies!**

**-Grace**


	3. Treasure Lace: District 1 Female

**District One Female: Treasure Lace (17)**

"Treasure!" My father's voice sounds through the fairly thin walls of our house. "Why in the world are you not up yet!"

I groan and turn over. I'm too tired to leave bed. It doesn't help that it's the reaping either. I really shouldn't be that worried, as there are so many trained and bloodthirsty girls in the district, but I can't seem to help it.

"Treasure honey," My mom's voice calls, sounding nicer than Dad's ever could. "Saffron is up and getting ready. You'll have to be ready in twenty minutes if you want to walk with her!"

This propels me out of bed. Saffron is nineteen and my next door neighbor. She and I have been as close as sisters ever since she moved in when I was four. She is out of the reaping age, so she doesn't have anything to worry about. But me? I have two more years.

I rake a comb through the mess of black curls that doubles as my hair. It never does what I want it to do, and stubbornly refuses to make me look pretty. My mom always says that it's because I didn't eat my vegetables when I was younger. Of course, now I know that she's just teasing, but when I was small, I think I consumed more lettuce and carrots than anyone in the district.

I throw on my reaping outfit, the same one I've worn three years in a row. My family isn't really that well off. My parents work as furriers for a rich family, and they don't get too much money. It doesn't really matter to me, especially as richer families always seem to afford and force their kids into the academy. Most of them turn into bloodthirsty monsters, and there is no way I could do that. I'd probably end up getting kicked out and disappointing my father.

Again.

He's never liked me much, and I only have the slightest idea as to why. He wanted my mother to have a boy. I was a girl. He wanted my mom to have another kid (preferably a boy), but it hasn't happened. She got ovarian cancer, and she was forced to have them removed. My dad was furious. He didn't blame her, he blamed me. I can't even think as to why. He is stern and is always telling me off.

"TREASURE CRYSTAL LACE! YOU COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE-" My father everyone. The sweetest guy ever.

His voice is silenced by my mother, who is the only one who can get Dad to calm down. She sticks up for me a lot, because I'm too scared to do it. Yes, Dad doesn't hit me, and occasionally he jokes with me, but he always can turn mean and cold in a second. And besides, nothing ever says that he won't start hitting me.

I adjust my gray dress, gray scarf, dark gray leggings, and grab my gray jacket. Everything about my outfit is kind of disappointing to an outsider, but I'm not drab, depressed, or colourless. I just happen to like the simplicity of gray.

I sprint down the stairs at top speed and am greeting with the fuming face of my father. He controls himself however, and simply says, "Hurry up next time, will you?"

My mom is cooking something. Normally we just eat oatmeal and occasionally toast, but today my mother is making pancakes. It's a special meal, once a year, and I always make it last as long as possible.

Today is no different.

I grab a plate and take three, each one stacked on the other. I drizzle them in honey, which isn't too expensive, and take a seat. My father sits across from me, and Mom sits next to me. I eat painfully slowly, even though I really want to inhale my meal. Dad disappears behind a pile of paperwork, and Mom and I proceed to pretend he isn't there.

"Excited for the reaping?" Mom looks at me, her narrowed eyes seeing right through my fake smile.

"Um," I falter. Somehow, I can't seem to meet her eyes.

"Treasure." My mom sounds sterner than I've ever heard her sound.

"No. No I am not," And without further ado, I start to rant about the reaping and how I'm not ready and how I have this feeling I'm going to be reaped.

"Honey," Mom reaches over and squeezes my knee. Her small, chocolate-brown hand is delicate to the touch. "Even if you are reaped, someone will volunteer. That's why it's so great to live in District One."

I nod and change the subject, not convinced. "Is Saffron almost here?"

My mom tosses back her black curls, which look so much like mine, except on her, they look good. "Should be soon. Why don't you start walking?"

I stand up and take my plate to the sink. When I'm sure she isn't looking, I lick the remaining drops of honey. Then I toss the plate into the sink, wipe my hands on the dishcloth, and run out of the house.

As I sprint out of the doorway, I knock into something. Or someone. I scream and fall over. The person I ran into does the same. I groggily sit up and rub my bruised head, nervous that it's Shimmer Paris again.

Shimmer is the daughter of the wealthiest family in District One. By wealthy, I mean seriously wealthy. Shimmer, so far, has worn a different outfit every day, has slaves that wait on her, and her driveway alone is almost a mile long. The Paris family also happens to be the most influential family in District One, and it doesn't help that she hates my guts.

When I was in the fourth grade, I brought a lunch to school. Mom always would give me tomato soup, tessera bread, and cheese. Shimmer was in my class that year, and we ate lunch in our classes. I was taking my soup back over to my seat, after the teacher helped me open the container, and I was looking down at my feet.

I ran straight into Shimmer Paris. Shimmer screamed so loudly you would've thought the building was on fire. She started yelling at my, her shrill voice punctuated with angry shrieks. I could only mutter an apology while she yelled at me for burning her and ruining her pink dress.

The same week, coincidentally, my parents were fired from the Paris company. They scrambled to find work, but they never rose as high as they were. We were forced to sell most of our things, and we had to stop paying for someone to come and fix our house.

Now everyone, besides Saffron, a boy at school called Jet, and Saffron's cousin, Satin, are too afraid to talk to me. I don't fully mind though. I've never liked conversation very much.

I look fearfully up at the person I ran into. With a whoosh, I let my breath out, and stand up. I help the girl to her feet and then grin.

"Hey Saffron."

Saffron glares at me. "Thanks a lot Treasure. Now I have a freaking dirt stain on my dress. And you messed up my hair."

Saffron touches her blonde ringlets, which are actually perfect. Still.

"They're fine," I say impatiently. "C'mon, if we hurry, we can watch them set up the stage and stuff."

"No," Saffron looks back at me, abandoning all attempts to fix her clothes. "No, lets go meet Satin."

"Ugh," I groan disappointed. "That child is a demon disguised as an angel. I swear, she's going to freaking kill us all someday." I wince as Treasure punches me, a bit harder than necessary.

"Please? I promise she'll behave!" Saffron begs me, and we both know who's going to win this battle.

"You said that last time." I mutter, but reluctantly allow Saffron to drag me in the direction of Satin's house.

Satin, who just happens to be Saffron's cousin, really isn't a child. She's actually a year older than me, but whatever. The way she acts, she may as well be an eight-year-old girl. She's bouncy and peppy and hyper, she sometimes loses her train of thought and starts the whole sentence she's saying all over again. I pretend to hate her, but no one can. Her happiness is contagious.

When we reach her small, squat gray house, she's already outside, bouncing on her toes and humming a song under her breath.

"Oooh! Hey!" Everything about Satin bounces, from her blonde ringlets to her tiny feet. "I didn't know if you were coming, and I was gonna go ahead and leave, but I thought that I would wait, because it would be awkward if you showed up and I wasn't here!"

I nod and turn around. "Can we go now?" I call over my shoulder. "We have five minutes to get to the reapings."

The two girls jog to catch up with me. We walk in silence for a bit, and then without any sort of warning, Satin screams, "RACE YOU!" and takes off, her blue dress flapping in the wind.

"No." I say, grabbing Saffron's arm as she makes to break into a run. "No way."

Saffron makes a face. "You're no fun."

"Gosh, fine. RACE YOU!" This time it's me who takes off without warning. "Haha loser!" I call back over my shoulder.

We arrive at the reaping, breathless and panting. We both laugh a bit, worn out, but as I approach the station to get my finger pricked, the familiar panic seizes my chest.

_You aren't going to get reaped. Stop thinking about it. Someone will volunteer. _

My chant soothes me a bit. I barely notice the sharp stab of pain as the needle enters my finger. The lady shoos me away, and I mutter a goodbye to Saffron and Satin.

I walk to my section, pretending to not notice the wide berth the girls my age seem to give me. I look over and catch Jet's eye. He grins at me from the eighteen-year-old boys' section, and I smirk back. As usual, he's decked out in fancy clothes, giving condescending smiles to the poorer kids. I shake my head and smile.

Jet is a good guy, just a bit full of himself. As I see it, the more time he spends with me, the more down-to-earth he becomes. We could never be anything more than friends, and we even discussed it once, after someone told me he liked me, and not in the friendship kind of way.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by the feedback from the microphone. Everyone winces. Our escort, Euterpe Bloom, ascends the stage, the usual sickly smile stuck to her face. Her severe face gazes out over us, her cold blue eyes searching us, and her blue hair pulled back so tightly that it's pulling at the skin on her face.

I probably shouldn't judge her, but I think she ought to look a bit more happy. I mean, she's escort for One.

"Hello District One, Happy Hunger Games, May the Odds be Ever in your favor, etcetera, etcetera, let's watch a video-" She rushes through all of this. I couldn't be more thankful.

"Oh, no Mayor, you are NOT reading that speech this year. Oh no mister, don't you look at me like that I'M LATE!" Euterpe's shrill voice fills the still air, and titters sound all around as the Mayor disappointedly sits.

She plays the video, and I proceed to zone out.

What seems to be a few minutes later, I hear her voice once more.

"Okay, I'm picking the ladies first and all that, if you have any objections speak now or forever hold- No, no that's for weddings." She makes her way to the girls' bowl and I close my eyes.

_Not me, not me, not me. _ I chant.

Euterpe unfolds the card and leans forward. "Hmph." She looks up and down. She does this, keeping us in suspense as long as possible.

"TREASURE LACE!"

Me. Me. Me.

No, I'll just sit here and wait for someone to volunteer. Because somebody will. Right?

The crowd is silent.

"Lace, get your butt up here right now, I still have a boy to pick. We don't have all day." Euterpe's words are like ice. To the Hunger Games. Me. Me. Me.

They picked me.

A girl shoves me from behind, and she speaks loud enough for the peacekeepers to here. "Go. That's you."

Before they can reach me, I speed-walk around them and find myself on stage.

I fight the conflicting emotions on my face, but I feel confusion take over. Why isn't anyone volunteering? Where's the girl who was supposed to volunteer?

"Volunteers, going once, twice, three times!"

I blink. I'm going to the Hunger Games.

I miss the boy's name, preoccupied with my fate. Why? Why? Why?

I'm ushered into the Justice Building, where I'm put in a small, velvet room, and told to sit, because this is where I can say my goodbyes. I will myself to stay strong, and I succeed for about ten seconds.

I break down as Mom rushes in. "Ooh, Treasure, baby, honey, it's okay, it's okay. You can do it. You _can_!" She puts me on her right knee and rocks me, back and forth, back and forth, just like she did when I was small. I cry and cry, silently though.

"Here." I look up, and I see Mom hand me a small package. "Your token," She smiles. I open the box, and find a small, shining, diamond ring sparkling up at me. Mom's anniversary present from Dad. I start to cry again.

As soon as the peacekeepers come, I let out a scream. It must have been terrible, because Mom also starts to bawl. "Let me stay a bit longer, please!" She begs the entire way as they drag her out.

"Bye Mommy," I whisper.

As soon as she leaves, Dad walks in.

"God Treasure, were you crying? No, Treasure you can't. You have to seem strong."

His words are strict but his voice is tender. '

"Daddy, I'm not strong." I whisper, but my tears slowly dry up.

Dad actually takes my face and uses his thumb to swipe off the ones that linger. He hasn't been this loving and caring since I was born, basically.

"But you hate me." It's a statement, comes out of my mouth before I can stop it.

To my surprise, tears fill my dad's eyes as well. "No, sweetie, I don't hate you. I love you so much. I love you so much babygirl. Don't ever think otherwise ever again."

I sob, and we embrace. He feels safer, stronger, more comforting than anything else I could ever remember. We're broken apart by a peacekeeper, and I think, that the scream I let out for Dad is worse than the one for Mom.

I let my tears dry, and all of a sudden three figures burst in.

"It was her!"

"That witch!"

"That bi-"

"What?" I ask, before Saffron could finish her sentence. "Slow down please."

Satin spills the whole story, quickly and efficiently. A girl called Sparkle was meant to volunteer. She didn't because I was reaped. She didn't because she was afraid of Shimmer, who had caught her eye and given her a glare and a shake of the head.

"It doesn't matter now," I sigh heavily. "I'm going into the arena."

"I should've volunteered!" Satin cries, and then promptly bursts into tears.

"You couldn't have," Jet says. "Your parents would lose their job, and you wouldn't have enough to get by on."

"Shut up Jet." Saffron puts an arm around Satin's shaking form.

"Guys," They turn and look at me. I mean to give a speech about how much I love them and how amazing they all are, but all that comes out is a hoarse, "Bye."

"Bye." They all say back. I think I even spot water in Jet's eyes. Tears.

The peacekeepers come, and I am alone and afraid.

oOo

**So. Hey. First real chapter up and ready to be reviewed. They're kind of long, so the boy isn't in this chapter. A special thanks to A M4D TE4-P4RTY for Treasure Lace. She was super fun to work with, and I hope you liked the way I portrayed her. Next chapter coming soon! No specific review questions until the next chapter, so just give me an overall review: What did you like, what didn't you like, suggestions, et. **

**Bye Lovlies! **

**Grace**


	4. Jasper Hematite: District 1 Male

**District One Male: Jasper Hematite (17)**

I grunt and whirl around, blocking Amber's attempt to disarm me with my spear. She lets out a squeal of surprise and jumps backwards. I advance on her, and she looks up at me, then looks down at her watch.

"Stop!" Her command actually manages to stop me in my tracks, and I lower my spear. "You have an hour until the reaping."

Inwardly, I cringe. I truly do not want to volunteer for the Hunger Games, but my father has assured me that I have no choice in the matter. As if reading my thoughts, Amber walks over and puts a hand on my arm.

"Jasper," Her voice is gentle. "You're going to come back. Everyone knows it."

I shake her off and don't answer. I walk to the door and open it, the morning light spilling into the dark training center. Without a backwards glance, I jog back home, desperately hoping that my father isn't awake yet.

No such luck.

When I reach our house, I see him standing outside, waiting for me. Resigned to my fate, I move slowly up the front walk.

"Hi Dad." My voice is dull, but still has a terse sound to it.

"Son!" He bellows, coming up to meet me. "How wonderful! You were practicing, correct? Just think!" One of his hands sweeps out in front of me. "When you come back from the Games, we'll be richer than the Paris's!"

I squirm out of his grip. "Dad," I say. "I'm only doing this so that Blaze doesn't have too. Mom never would've made me go kill innocent children."

My dad is so surprised at my calm, controlled outburst, that he actually lets me go, mouth open wide, like a fish.

Blaze is my younger brother. He is thirteen, and the only person that I care about. Unlike me, he's adventurous, excitable, and has the greatest heart you could ever find in a person. He and I are best friends, and we do everything together.

By volunteering for the Games, I can save his heart of gold from turning into someone bloodthirsty, arrogant, and evil. My father was a career, and it was always his dream to volunteer, kill people, and bring glory to his district. But the year he was eighteen, someone snatched the opportunity from under his nose. He was furious. When he got two sons, he vowed to make at least one of them volunteer. If I don't, Blaze will be forced into training and made to volunteer.

I can't have that happen to my brother. So I struck a deal with Dad. If I volunteer, he'll pull Blaze out of training and never speak to him about going into the Games. Ever. WIth my weapon skills and good looks, I'm sure I have a chance of making it back to the District, back to Blaze.

My mother doesn't have a say in the matter. Dead people normally don't. She died during Blaze's birth, when I was only four. I have barely any memory of her, except a warm, safe feeling. I'm almost positive that if she were here, she would make Dad take us both out of training.

I make it to my room, the one I share with Blaze. We aren't poor or anything, not like Amber, who only wants to volunteer to save her family from starvation. Blaze and I just like being close to eachother.

I quietly creep in, trying not to wake him, when someone jumps out in front of me. "BOO!" Blaze screams. I yell and run to the closet.

"Oh my God Blaze!" I try not to laugh. "You gave me a heart attack!"

Blaze is doubled over laughing. "You're so easy to-to-to-" He's cut of by a chortle of mirth. "Scare!"

I pretend to glare at him, and then shove his happy form playfully out of the door. "Go down and eat," I smile. "I'm not even dressed yet!"

In record time, I manage to scrub myself off, throw on my reaping outfit of a blue button down and nice, black dress pants. I desperately try to make the spiky part of my blonde hair lie flat, but once again, it pops right back up, as if having a mind of its own.

I sigh, tug on my shoes, and run into the kitchen. Without speaking to my dad, I grab a few pieces of meat and toast and chomp it down; My dad starts to look at me, and then says, "There's are little volunteer! Aren't you excited Jasper?"

"No," I swallow. "I'm only doing this so Blaze won't have to and because you're making me. And I am not little."

My dad looks down and fiddles with his hands. "I'm sure you don't mean that, I mean, you're just excited. I know I would be!"

"Dad," I meet his eyes. "Shut up."

I drop my plate in the sink and walk out of the house, Blaze close behind. "I don't want you to volunteer." Blaze looks at me. "He can't make us volunteer."

"Yes," I sigh heavily. "He may find a way. I'm sorry. I have to, for you."

Blaze lowers his head and then reaches into his pocket. "Well then take this at least, for your token." He brings out a small stone, which is attached to a leather necklace. The workmanship is rough, but Blaze is obviously very proud of the thing.

"For my token?" I ask, as I take the stone. It's smooth and cool to the touch.

"Yeah." Blaze grins.

"Cool," I say, throwing it around my neck. "Let's go."

We walk to the reaping, Blaze jumping like he'll never run out of energy, me trudging along behind him, a bit forlorn. For his sake, I plaster a smile to my face, and keep pace with him.

Soon we reach the Justice Building, and Blaze and I separate to get our fingers pricked. "See you in the Justice Building!" Blaze smiles, and we departe. The now familiar iron grasp of fear clenches my stomach, and I panic, even though I don't let it show.

I shuffle forward and give my hand to the lady at the station, and barely notice the prick of pain in my second finger.

I move to the seventeen-year-old boys' section, and there I wait. I watch as our escort, Euterpe Bloom, ascends the stage, in her usual manner of hurry. She draws the female name, skipping the dull reading of the treaty of treason.

I know Amber isn't going to volunteer this year, but still, I never know with her. She could go up there right now. But she doesn't. Instead, a confused looking girl with hair more unruly than mind moves to the stage.

Then it's time for the boys. I start to tremble. Euterpe reaches in and grabs a name. Without a pause this time, she reads it out.

"Peter-"

"I volunteer." It's done. No going back. I become Jasper of the Capitol, putting on a bubbly, intimidating smile, more like Blaze than I'll ever be. Smiling like this feels good. I only really do it when Blaze is around.

"Hey," I speak into the microphone. "I'm Jasper Hematite. Your next Victor." I flex my muscles, spotting Blaze's pensive but proud face in the crowd. I wink at him and tap each of my arms once. It's our secret signal Blaze made up when he was young. _I love you. _

Euterpe ushers us inside the Justice Building, and I wait inside a room for visitors. I hope Blaze and Dad come seperately. That way Dad won't ruin Blaze and I's time.

First to walk in is Amber. She looks nervous, but has a big smile on her face. "Please don't die." Is the first thing she says. "Then who'll I train with?"

I smile. But this time, it's real. "I'll try to come back." I promise, and she hugs me. It seems to last an eternity, but it must only last a few minutes, because a peacekeeper comes in and breaks us apart.

"Bye Jasper!" She calls, as the peacekeeper leads her away. I smile after her, and then sit down. Almost immediately, the smile vanishes. This was not a good idea. I hate my dad for making me do this.

Blaze tumbles in, Dad walking after him. "Come back." Blaze looks me straight in the eye. If you die, I'll kill you." Then he grabs me and hugs me tightly. I tickle him, and he laughs, tears trickling from his eyes, from mingled sadness, laughter, and loss.

He leaps away, and I turn to Dad.

"Son," He grins. "I'm so proud of you! I can't wait to see you make your first kill, when the blood leaks out of that dead body, and when you pull his insides out, victorious!"

I cringe. "I won't."

My dad looks incredulous. "Whaddya mean you won't? You have to! It's part of the experience!"

I feel slightly sick, and judging by Blaze's pale face, he does too. "Dad," I begin. "I can't murder a child, it isn't right!"

"That's what the HUNGER GAMES is son," he bellows. "That's why you wanted to do this!"

Before I can assure him that I had absolutely no desire to do this, a peacekeeper walks in. Dad saunters out. "See you in a few weeks!" I give up.

Blaze goes in for one last hug, and as the peacekeeper pulls him out too, he taps both of his arms once, and I do the same.

Then they are gone. And I'm going to the Hunger Games.

oOo

**Alright! Now that you've seen both Jasper and Treasure, question time!**

**1) Who do you like better, and why?**

**2) Who do you predict to make it farther?**

**3) Comments, critics, constructive ****criticism?**

**4) What do you think?**

**Thanks for reviewing and answering my questions. I hope I did your characters justice. **

**Bye Lovelies!**

**Grace**


	5. Athena Thorson: District 2 Female

**District Two Female: Athena Thorson (18)**

I lunge forward and frown as Victor knocks the spear out of my hand. Shrugging, I dart forward and climb around his legs and onto his back. Before he can react, I squeeze the pressure point on his neck, and he drops to the ground, screaming.

"Oh my God, Victor?" I fall to my knees. "Did I push too hard or something?"

"Every time." He grimaces as he gets to his feet. "Every time."

"Sorry," I stand back up. "But I should probably get back home. Reapings start soon, and I have to look my best!"

I give a mock giggle and twirl, my brown bob flitting out in all directions. Victor catches me as I lean backwards, in a pretend faint. Making fun of the District One citizens has been something I've done for years. I hear that they're all ditsy and vain and klutzes. It's probably why District Two has a much greater amount of Victors.

I straighten up and stand on my tiptoes to give Victor a kiss on his tanned cheek. "I'll see you in an hour," I smile, backing away to the door. "In the Justice Building."

Victor grins. "Leaving so soon?" He slides a bit closer to me, getting rid of any distance I might have put between us. I smile.

"Victor," I start, but never finish. He sweeps me off my feet, throws me over his shoulder, and ignores the pounding on his back by my fists.

oOo

Twenty minutes later, I've finally managed to convince Victor that I _really_ have to go get ready now and that I promise we can spend time together once I'm crowned Victor.

I run up the hill, waving to Styx and Caribena, the twins I watch after. Both wave back, and Styx knocks Caribena's thumb from her mouth. The pair isn't quite as well off as my family, and I feel the guilt rise in my chest as I look at their neat but worn dresses, muddy teddy bears, and lank, unkempt hair. The least I can do to help their family out is to look after them while their mother and father work in the Nut.

"Afena!" Caribena toddles towards me, her lisp made more pronounced by the gap between her teeth. "Afena!"

I stop and wait for her, watching as Styx crosses her arms, rolls her eyes, and follows her enthusiastic twin. By the time Caribena reaches me, she is panting. She looks up at me with shining eyes and puts her arms in the air. I lift her up, and she pushes the hair back from my ear, and whispers.

"You going to the Hunger Games fif year?"

I smile. "Yeah. I am. But don't worry, I'm going to be the Victor."

"Then we'll get tons of yummy things to eat." Styx has reached us. In her hand, she holds the teddy bear Caribena dropped a ways back.

I set Caribena down. She moves to Styx, her bare feet padding on the damp, cobblestone street. Once she reaches her twin, Caribena snatches the bear away. Styx rushes after her, both girls squealing indignantly.

I grin and begin a slow jog back to my house. I pick up the pace, running faster, and faster, and faster, until my house is in sight. It is cozy, small, but perfect. We're better off than a lot of families in the District.

I run up the short path and leap up the steps to the porch. Flinging open the door, I dash inside. "I'M HOME!" I shout, angling my head upwards, as Mom and Dad may still be asleep.

Before I go primp, I decide to eat something. While rifling through the pantry, I come across a box of plain cereal I didn't know we had. Frowning, I take it out to our small, square table, and open it.

Out jumps a giant cockroach. I scream and drop the box, batting my face and arms. Yellow puffs spill all over the wooden floor, and I scream again. It takes me almost two minutes to realize that I'm batting around a rubber cockroach, and that there is deep, muffled laughter coming from the hallway.

"Daaaad!" I groan. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

He walks into the room, chuckling. "Your face," he gasps between sounds of mirth. "Was priceless!"

I allow him a smile. He's probably done it to get back at me for changing to milk in his cereal to glue. Luckily, Mom caught it before he ate it. That's my dad and I for you. I've never taking anything in my life completely seriously.

At school, I'm the prankster, who doesn't care what she got on the test about the Nut, and dares to talk back to and argue with the teacher. I've gotten in trouble, but it really doesn't matter. Once I win the Hunger Games, no one is ever going to even think about trying to get me to do what they want.

Dad is still laughing quietly when Mom walks in. She's wearing a rose colored robe, which is incredibly soft, warm, and smells good. "Hey baby," Mom kisses my cheek. "I would've warned you, but your father told me to hush up."

I grin, giving her a hug. "Today's the day, Mom," I bounce on my toes. "When I get back, Victor and I are going to live in the Victor's Village together!" Mom puts on a mock pout. "What, no room for your old Mother dearest?"

"Mo-om!" I groan. "I just want to be alone. I'll visit every day. You should've had another kid, so when I go away, someone can play tricks on this guy and keep you company." I flick a finger in my Dad's direction. He had put on a serious face, but then looked down at the cereal-covered floor and burst into laughter once more.

"Are you kidding?" Mom asks. "I already have two kids. You, and your Dad here. He's enough kid for me."

Dad stops laughing. "Hey!"

I dash up the stairs, leaving my two parents behind, arguing, but not seriously. Never seriously. Because the Thorson family is never serious.

I jump into the bath, soaking away the sweat of the day, thoughts of Victor running through my mind. I just know he's going to propose when I get back. I can feel it.

My short hair dripping, I stand from the warm water and grab a towel. After drying myself and my hair completely, I grab my outfit for the reaping. It has to make a statement, scream, "HEY I'M HERE AND I'M GOING TO WIN!" without saying, "HEY THERE I'M A FASHION OBSESSED IDIOT FROM DISTRICT ONE!"

It certainly does. It's a tight red dress, with an open back and a halter top, with a tight waist and a skirt that flares out. When I spin, the skirt flies up. White high heels and a white headband complete the look. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, assessing every tiny detail.

I look fierce. I could kill you within an instant, and I could snap your neck whenever I so please. But I would do it like a true lady.

I fly down the stairs, a toothy grin etched onto my face. My mother sighs when she sees me. "Our little Victor!"

"Our little Me!" I can't help it, I could say or do anything stupid right now. I'm so excited!

I rush out the door, waving to Mom and Dad, who will come by later to watch me take my place as District Two's fiftieth Victor. My shoes slap the muddy, cobblestone street, and I wave to everyone as I fly by.

Styx, Caribena, Oreta, Hero, Thor, Domitia, Cob, Craig, Rowland. All are young, some tiny babies, none older than eight. Dad and I watch a lot of the kids in our neighborhood while their parents slave away. I, especially, have some time on my hands, and Dad works from home, managing other Nut workers.

Mom works in the Nut, but has really easy going, well-paying work. She always wanted to be a peacekeeper, but that dream never got off the ground. It's probably why she fully supports me, even when I get the craziest of ideas.

I arrive in the square. Tons of people have already showed up, and I bounce into the line to get my finger pricked. Suddenly, my world goes dark. Panicking about the coming Games, and for some reason having a crazy notion that someone wants to hurt me, I jab my elbow back, but it only meets the air.

I whirl around, and see Victor smiling. "I've known your violent tendencies well enough by now to get out of the way." He kisses my lashes softly, and I smile up at him.

"Ready to win this thing?" he asks.

"I was born ready," I jump away from him and start punching the air. "Those tributes," I throw in a few kicks. "Better watch," I jump and lunge forward, tipping over, into Victor's arms. "Out." I say softly, breathless, and only partly from the physical feats I just accomplished.

"Next!" I hear a sharp voice call. Victor kisses my nose and lifts me to my feet. "Go get 'em," He grins. "I can't wait to see you in the Justice Building!"

I smile and walk to the peacekeeper, absentmindedly holding out my second finger. She pricks it, but I barely notice the pinch. I suck on the small cut and skip to the eighteen-year-old girl's section.

I allow my mind to fold up and flutter off while I wait for our escort. When someone finally taps the microphone, I snap out of my daydreams, tense and alert.

Our escort, Zilithia Almond, is hideous. She has no sense of anything in her brain, and sometimes says the same sentences over and over again, like she forgot where she was. By Capitol standards, she is beautiful. By District standards, you might find her under your bed. As a monster.

She tries to go with a different theme every year, trying to mimic the interviewer, Clio Flickerman. But, there's a twist. Instead of having only one color for a theme, Zilithia goes all out. Last year, she had us guess her theme it took almost twenty minutes for someone to finally yell out, "Jewels!"

This year, by the looks of it, it's going to be a long day. She's decked out in a tight, pale green tube top, that stops just below her belly button and accents her totally fake cleavage. On the top are tiny pink rosebuds, and a pale yellow lace overlay. She's wearing a maxi-skirt, that is pale pink and covered in dazzling white sparkles. Whenever she moves, they flash rainbow colors into the air. Her shoes seem to be made of vines, and her collar, which looks like it's from the fifteenth century and isn't even connected to the dress, is yellow lace, and white sparkles, like the ones on her maxi skirt.

And don't even get me started on her hair. Curls, all different shapes and sizes, falling and flying out all about her head. Rainbow. Yuck.

She squeals into the microphone. "District Two! It is an immense honor to be here today to select. To select. To select our courageous young man, man and woman. But, before we begin, I have a video, brought all the way. All the way. All the way from the Capitol!"

She maneuvers her insanely long fingernails around a remote, and then presses a button. All of a sudden, pictures of war and terror and gore fill the screen. I sigh, and catch Victor's eye in the crowd. He flashes me a cocky grin, mouths good luck, and blows me an air kiss.

I blow one back, and then turn in my dress, a complete circle, back to the front, where Zilithia is about to draw the name.

"And the girl," She plucks a slip. "And the girl. And the girl who will have the honor to represent this District is,"

I get ready, start to motion for the girls in front of me to move the heck out of the way. They obliged.

"Emmi-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I scream, pouring my voice into those two words. No one objects. No one tries to fight me. I'm going to the Hunger Games!

I skip up to the stage, flash a knowing smile, and speak into the microphone. "Hi there. It is _so _nice to meet all of you! I'm Athena Thorson, and I am your next Victor. You can start sponsoring me now!"

Zilithia looks unfazed by my speech. I catch Mom's eye in the crowd, and have to stuff my knuckles in my mouth to keep from laughing when I see my dad pulling faces behind her. Mom smiles up at me, tears in her proud eyes, oblivious to the tirade of ugly positions going on behind her.

Zilithia is making her way back over to the microphone, and I wait to hear the name of this year's lucky boy tribute.

"Sh-"

"I volunteer." It is said politely, yet determinedly, and a handsome, strong looking boy walks forward.

"I'm Demicus Feldspar," he winks at the cameras. "Pleasure to win your Games, President Teriba."

We're hustled into the Justice Building, where I await the arrival of my parents.

My mom and dad dash in first, Mom crying openly, a cloth handkerchief clutched to her face. Dad is wearing a beaming smile.

"We're so proud of you!" he crows, slapping me on the back. "My little girl's going into the arena!"

I grin. "Your 'little girl' is coming out of the arena too." He pulls me into a bone-crushing hug, and I hug back. I only let go when I hear Mom whimper.

"Mom," I turn to her. "What's wrong? Aren't you proud?"

"So proud," she gasps, and dissolves into a puddle of tears.

"Mo-om!" I roll my eyes, but can't keep the smile off my face. "I love you?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" She hugs me tight, and I can smell vanilla. "I love you too!"

The peacekeepers enter the room, all too soon. "I'll see you in less than four weeks. I love you so so much!"

"We love you too!" They chorus, and then they are gone. I'll only have one more visitor, and I know who that is.

Victor walks in. His hair is messy and cute, and he's wearing a big, dorky, adorable smile. "My girlfriend is going to the Hunger Games!" He smiles.

"I am!" I smile back. Then he takes my hands. He kisses me softly of the nose, and then on the lips. He dots fluttery kisses all over my face, and I give a muffled laugh.

I redirect his mouth to mine, and we begin to kiss. It starts out simple and sweet, soft, like usual. Then it begins to heat up. He begins to kiss me passionately, and I all but melt into him. We stay glued together for around three minutes, when I finally break the bond.

"I love you," he whispers. "I love you, I love you, l love you, l love you."

"Me too." I meet his eyes and bite my lip. "I'm gonna miss you though."

"It's only three weeks or so," he takes my hand again. "And when you come back, we'll be together forever."

The Peacekeepers enter again. Victor kisses my lips one last time, soft and sweet. "Kill some District Ones for me!" he calls, and then he's gone.

I grin. "Will do!" I say to the closed door.

I am alone. But I am not afraid. I'm going to the Hunger Games!

oOo

**Sorry for the lack of updates! I've been super busy with school and music, but I hope y'all like this. So, I have a couple of questions, even though you haven't seen the male yet. **

**1. What was your favorite part of this chapter?**

**2. What do you like best about Athena (if you like her at all)?**

**3. Suggestions on writing style (PLEASE CRITIC ME! I DON'T CARE IF IT'S MAYBE A LITTLE MEAN! :D)**

**4. Anything else you can think of!**

**Well, thanks for reading, hope to get the Male out soon.**

**Bye Lovelies!**

**Grace**


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